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My Indian Archive

I’m proud of entitling me a hobby ornithologist. And this morning I experienced something rare in that perspective. In the middle of Berlin I saw a rare bird. A bird I’ve longed to see for years. For twenty years. Since I lived in India : the Kingfisher. I saw one tiny specimen flying over the pond next to the Mauerpark.

This is Puri. ପୁରୀ. A rather tiny pilgrim town at the Indian Ocean. More specific in the Bay of Bengal. When I worked in Calcutta (1993/94) I spent some weeks there. Travelled with the Bhubaneshwar Express through the night. Holiday in Puri. A break from the work at the Home for Dying Destitutes. A tiny break from the days in the white cotton sari world of Mother Teresa. And her sisters and novices. I remember I brought Tarkovskji’s diary as a treat on the beach. I remember I lent the biography on Philip Glass (Faber and Faber) from the British Council Library. While I read those wonderful books under the sun I started feeling ill. After a weeks – back in Calcutta – I was hospitalized with severe typhoid fever.

Years later – in 2010 – all this came to my mind. Finalizing the programme of Bergen International Festival. We were in the middle of a correspondence with Philip Glass’ managment. About a totally different project. Suddenly I read in a footnote that Glass’ just had made an orchestral version of Kooyanisqatsi. World premiere in Hollywood Bowl. Koyaanisqatsi was a piece that had haunted me for years. It haunted me even on the Puri Beach. It was the first piece by Glass’ I ever heard. And the first piece i’ve ever heard criticising specifically the global injustice. I remember I watched it with some friends in Haugesund Cineast Society. Koyaanisqatsi was directed by Geoffey Reggio and fiilled with Glass haunting music. It did such a deep impact on me in Haugesund.

I kept thinking and dreaming about that piece of music for years. As I did on the beach in Puri too. Koyaanisqatsi was also the main reason why I brought the Glass’ biography to the beach. In the festival office all these reminiscenses started to boil… And I thought reading about the premiere in Hollywood: It’d be amazing to premiere it in Bergen too. The European Premiere. The main reason wasn’t the merit but the curatorial setting: presenting this film epos about modern civilization and exploitation to oil lords of Norway. Statoil – the national oil company – is the main sponsor of the Festival. Statoil funded the royal opening and I suggested that Koyaanisqatsi could be a wonderful opening piece. My colleagues agreed and some months later it was performed live for the oil lords, shipping magnats, ministers at the Royal Festival Opening. Their Majesties King Harald and Queen Sonja was as always present. The King even mentioned the film in the opening speech earlier that day:

“I’m told that the Opening Concert tonight is a very special event: it’s the European premiere of Koyaanisqatsi – meaning ”Life out of Balace”. Accompagnied by Bergen Philarmonic Orchestra and Philip Glass Ensemble.

Koyaanisqatsi is about human exploitation of nature and the great natural forces. Koyaanisqatsi is an example of how art experiences are necessary eye-openers – demonstrating how vulnerable life is.” (http://www.kongehuset.no/tale.html?tid=85732)

I must admit the performance first of all was a curatiorial understatement in the face of the oil lords. And secondly it was a deeply personal remembrance from the days before I got ill in Puri.

I came to Calcutta to work for Mother Teresa – but Calcutta turned out to be so much more. I was 18 years old and I met a metropol filled with contrasts maintained especially by my wonderful landlady Susama. (She’d been professor in English at Rabindranath Tagore’s experimental outdoor university in Shantiniketan). She deeply disliked Mother Teresa. Today I can admit I understand her dislike somehow. I got to know Mother personally through some unfortunate coincidences: i got severe typhoid fever and was reconvalesent in one of her monasteries. What really opened my eyes this year was though Susama – and Satyajit Ray’s films (llustrated below by a poster from his film Abhijan) and Pasolini’s poetry. I got to know Pasolini through my dear Italian co-worker, rescuer-turned-into-nurse – and friend – Angelo.

I came to Calcutta to work for Mother Teresa – but Calcutta turned out to be so much more. I was 18 years old and I met a metropol filled with contrasts maintained especially by my wonderful landlady Susama. (She’d been professor in English at Rabindranath Tagore’s experimental outdoor university in Shantiniketan). She deeply disliked Mother Teresa. Today I can admit I understand her dislike somehow. I got to know Mother personally through some unfortunate coincidences: i got severe typhoid fever and was reconvalesent in one of her monasteries. What really opened my eyes this year was though Susama – and Satyajit Ray’s films (llustrated below by a poster from his film Abhijan) and Pasolini’s poetry. I got to know Pasolini through my dear Italian co-worker, rescuer-turned-into-nurse – and friend – Angelo.